


Candy Buttons

by imdisappointingmyparents



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Ingestion of Pot Brownies, Anxiety Disorder, Character Study, Discussions of abuse, Drug Use, Female Friendship, Gen, I Love Emily and Ashley and I Hope You'll Come to Love Them Too, Mental Health Issues, Mentioned Divorce, Pre-Canon, Two Shot, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imdisappointingmyparents/pseuds/imdisappointingmyparents
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As it turns out, Ashley and Emily have more in common than a knack for schoolwork and an irrational hatred of J.D. Salinger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ashley

The dress is small, blue and scratchy. It makes her itch and fidget but it’s the nicest thing she owns, and Ashley knows better than to walk into the lions’ den dressed like a total slob.

Chris told her that despite his notoriety and knack for ruffling feathers, Josh is a nice guy. Ashley wants to take his word for it but she’s hung out with dodgy people before and the only thing she got out of it was harsh laughter hitting her back while she did whatever gross dare they wanted her to do. They weren’t her friends, but they didn’t ignore her or make copies of her diary to pass around to everyone in class, so Ashley learned to swallow her pride along with the bugs and spoiled milk and not breathe a word to her mom.

Now there’s Chris, her first ever honest to god friend and honestly she’s not sure what to do with herself. He’s nice, and funny, and probably doesn’t secretly hate her but Ashley hasn’t ruled that possibility out yet. A part of her wishes he hadn’t brought up his other friends at all, that the two of them could just hang out at coffee shops and bookstores and stay in the realm of safe boring friendship until they graduated and Ash would have to re-invent herself again.

“They can be wild, but overall they’re pretty cool,” Chris told her yesterday over coffee. “I think you’ll like them.”

“Okay,” Ash had said. Like a damn idiot.

And now she’s going to a party with three gazillionaires, two varsity athletes, the daughter of a pharm mogul and the two most popular kids in school. God. These kids are going to roast her on a spit.

“Ashley!” her mom calls from downstairs, “Chris is here! You ready?”

“Uh, yeah!” Ash replies, finishing the last of her makeup (was it too much? Too little? Would she look trashy? Clownish?). Her cat rubs up against her legs.

“Wish me luck, Prospero,” she says, scratching the tabby behind his ears.

She heads downstairs to find her mom chatting with Chris in the foyer. Chris looks up at her and smiles wide, blushing slightly.

“Hi Ash! Woah, you look amazing.”

Ashley giggles and feels for an absurd moment like a girl in a movie.

“Am I overdressed?”

“Not at all,” Chris says, smiling, “One of the people going is a total fashionista. If anyone’s gonna show up all fancy and overdressed, it’s her.”

Chris, on the other hand, is dressed in just a tee shirt and jeans, hands in his pockets and his hair a mess. He gestures outside.

“I’m just parked in the driveway,” he says. “Ready to go?”

“Uh, y-yeah, totally,” Ashley says, less than convincingly. “Let’s go.”

“Uh, hold on Ash,” her mother says, walking over to her and nodding at the purse around her shoulder. In a quiet voice she asks, “Do you have your—”

“Yeah, I got it,” Ash tells her, a little too quickly. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” her mother says, giving her hand a little squeeze. “Be safe, honey.”

“I will, mom,” Ashley says with an eye roll. “See you in a couple hours.”

 

\------------

It would be generous to call what’s playing right now “music”.

It’s more like the irregular heartbeat of something huge and angry, the violent beats pulsing through the house and sending vibrations through Ashley’s body. She’s been here for ten minutes and this is already a nightmare. Chris’s friend Josh dragged him off somewhere and now Ashley is on her own, weaving her way through a crowd of drunk, boisterous teenagers, gyrating to the beat and grinding up against one another like no one is watching. She feels a wave of nausea run through her body.

She needs some air.

Ashley finds her way to the door, narrowly avoiding a collision with a huge, tipsy guy who looks like a football player. She throws it open and practically gasps with relief when she enters the backyard, cool night air hitting her face.

It’s a sizable yard, with a pool and a barbeque pit and, off a ways, a large, beautiful garden. Ashley immediately heads there, trying to make herself small as possible so the poolside couples making out don’t turn and notice her.

The garden is exactly what an eccentric rich bachelor would have in a story. Tall, winding trees, ancient willows, a deep blue pond; roses and hydrangeas and dahlias and amaryllises blooming vibrantly in the night. Ashley wanders through, marveling at the beauty of it, the stillness.

She’ll just hang out here and recharge and then she’ll go find Chris. The two of them are probably making the rounds, drinking bizarre cocktails and making passes at girls prettier than her. She sighs and rolls her neck. It’s fine. She’s used to it. Chris is her friend. It’d be stupid to expect anything more.

She wanders past a lilac shrub in need of trimming and comes upon a girl about her age, sitting on a stone bench in the middle of the garden. She’s looking up at the moon, smoking something that, judging by the smell, is probably weed. Ashley freezes, wondering if she should turn back and leave the girl in peace, but the girl looks up at her before she can move.

“Uh, hey,” Ashley says uncertainly.

The girl nods.

“You, um, enjoying the party?” Ashley asks.

“It sucks,” the girl says, taking another hit and blowing out a perfect ring. Ashley watches it ripple, expand, and dissipate on the night air.

There's a pause. The girl sighs.

“A friend of mine was supposed to come with me, but she cancelled last minute,” she continues. She rolls her eyes. “Typical. Anyway, now I’m stuck at this shit party with all these people I couldn’t care less about, my boyfriend is probably in some closet fucking one of the girls on the swim team, and the friends I have that are here are too busy trying to get a piece of ass to talk to me, so I’m stuck on my own.”

“I’m sorry.”

"Whatever."

The girl looks up at her, her eyes sharp and critical. Her short black hair shines dully in the moonlight.

“I don’t know you, do I?”

“No,” Ashley tells her. “I’m new. I moved here like a month ago.”

The girl smirks.

“Well then, welcome to hell.”

“Um, thanks?”

Ashley walks over to the bench uncertainly and holds out her hand.

“I’m Ashley? If you care?”

The girl smiles but doesn’t shake her hand.

“Emily.”

\------------

“Heyyy!” a boy’s voice slurs when Ashley re-enters the house. She turns to see a tall, lanky boy approach her, holding a plate full of brownies. “You’re Chris’s friend, right? Ashley?”

“That’s me,” Ashley tells him. He looks at her clothes, her face and hair like he’s sizing her up.

“You’re from Salem, yeah?” Josh asks, his teeth alarmingly white. “Are you a witch?”

Ashley laughs uncomfortably.

“Uh, wanna find out? I could turn you into a frog.”

Josh chuckles. The scent of vodka is heavy on his breath.

“No thanks, I’m not in the mood for transformation. Buuuut—” he leans in, “If I could cast a little truth spell on you, what do you think of dear old Christopher?”

Ashley feels her face get hot.

“He’s nice.”

“What a glowing review,” Josh says with a smirk. Ashley squirms.

“I mean, he’s funny? And cool? And smart?”

“And a total dork, right?”

Ashley smiles a little.

“Yeah, that too," she says. Josh looks like he wants to interrogate her further and she figures she should find some excuse to change the subject and spare herself the Q&A. She looks at the plate Josh is holding.

“Can I have a brownie?”

Josh raises his eyebrows.

“Well! Sure thing, little lady. Wouldn’t have taken you for the type.”

“Are you kidding?” Ashley asks, gulping down the brownie in two bites. “I love chocolate.”

\------------

God, this paper feels so _nice._ She keeps trying to read the words on the page but every few sentences she forgets what the story’s about. But the pages, man. They’re fucking awesome, all rough and soft and papery. Why didn’t she ever notice this shit before?

“Having fun there?”

She turns around slowly, the voice vaguely familiar to her ears. Standing before her, with an expression that’s probably three quarters amused, one quarter concerned, is Emily, the girl from earlier.

“I was just, uh…” Ashley begins, losing her train of thought. “You look really good, you know that?”

“Josh give you some dessert?”

Ashley thinks.

“Huh—oh _yeah,_ he did! They were weird. Didn’t really taste like brownies.” Ashley considers, her thoughts swimming lazily through her mind like fat fish. “Guess he didn’t use enough sugar.”

“Yeah, that’s totally it,” Emily replies dryly. “Hey, listen, did you drive here?”

Ashley furrows her brow.

“…No. Chris drove me. Chris is really nice. I like his glasses. Very ‘B-movie scientist’.”

Emily nods, her lips twisted into a frown. Her hair looks shiny. It probably smells good too.

“Uh huh. Cool. Look, I don’t know how much of that shit you ate, but you might wanna cool it with eating and drinking from now on tonight.”

Ashley blinks.

“Really? I feel fine. Kinda hungry, actually.” She pauses. “ _Really_ hungry.”

Emily sighs.

“Whatever. Just don’t hurt yourself, okay?”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Ashley says, doing a little salute. She giggles at her own gesture. “Hey, did I tell you you look good tonight?”

“Literally told me that two minutes ago.”

Ashley blinks.

“Oh.”

Emily sighs and starts to walk away, back into the din of the party. Ashley watches her go, admiring the way the light catches in her hair. It occurs to her that that’s a really gay thing to think, and she laughs out loud.

Emily walks a little faster.

\------------

“Hey, Ash. You okay?” Chris asks, damp from sweat and holding a red solo cup in one hand. “You look kinda out of it.” His hair is all tousled, and she guesses Josh has been ruffling it or something. Best friends do that. She saw it in a movie once.

“Dude, I am so okay,” Ashley tells him, swaying on her feet a bit. Her head is still pleasantly fuzzy, the chatter of the other partygoers fading in and out. “I’m, like, a million percent okay.”

Chris peers at her like he’s her family physician. He leans in a bit close, which sets Ashley off balance a bit. She could kiss him right now. It would end terribly, horribly, catastrophically, but she could do it. She imagines he probably tastes like beer and salt and sweat. Not too appetizing, but she’d take it.

“Are you sure?” Chris asks, and it takes Ashley a few seconds to remember what he’s talking about. “Your eyes look pretty red.”

“I’m just tired,” she tells him. “What is it, like, four?”

Chris looks at his phone.

“It’s 12:30.”

“Woah, that early? Weird.”

Chris looks at her again and she can see something light up in his eyes. He frowns.

“You try some of Josh’s brownies?”

“Yeah,” Ash tells him. “They weren’t very good, but I imagine he’s so rich he doesn’t spend much time baking and stuff so—”

“I think I should probably take you home,” Chris says. “Get some water in you and get you to bed.”

Ha ha. Bed.

Ashley giggles and Chris looks at her again, more worried this time. Ashley decides maybe he’s right, maybe she should hit the hay. The party’s getting pretty dull anyway. It’s devolved into clusters of teenagers making out and no one’s in the mood to chat anymore.

“Okay,” Ashley finds herself saying.

Chris nods and smiles. They walk together into the fresh night air and to his car. Ashley racks her brains, trying to remember something. She’s supposed to do some chore, some ritual but it’s escaping her, the hint of the action gnawing at her but try as she might she can’t remember any details about what she’s supposed to do.

She sits down in his car and slams the door shut, putting on the seatbelt when Chris gets in on the driver’s side and glances at her.

“Some party, huh,” he says, putting the keys in the ignition.

“It was kind of boring, I have to admit,” Ash tells him. “Josh is cool though.”

“Yes well,” Chris sighs. “Josh and me are gonna have a little chat about his…confections tomorrow.”

“Confections?” Ashley feels so dumb but she isn’t picking up what Chris is throwing down.

“Ash, those brownies had weed in them.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Ashley says.

“Yeah, I guess he figured they’d relax you or something,” Chris sighs as he pulls the car away from the curb and starts heading down the street.

“Well, they didn’t exactly stress me out,” Ashley says. “Which is weird because I thought weed was supposed to make you paranoid or something.”

Chris smirks.

“You know a lot about weed then, little miss druggie?”

Ashley laughs.

“I mean, as much as any teenager would know about weed. Weed the drug. Weed the illegal druuuuuooooh my god my mom’s gonna kill me,” she says, the realization hitting her all at once. She buries her face in her hands. “Damn it! Oh man, oh god, I can’t believe I did that!”

Chris takes one hand off the wheel and gives her shoulder a little squeeze.

“Relax. You’ll be fine. Just try to sleep it off.”

\------------

Everything is off the next morning when she wakes up. Her head feels strange, like it’s full of sawdust, stuffing up her head and pressing behind her eyes. There’s a nasty feeling in the pit of her stomach and she can feel that old anxiety gnawing at her again, worse than usual.

“Ashley?” her mother calls. “Breakfast.”

It takes a Herculean effort to drag herself out of bed, her limbs heavy, her mind in angry, directionless spirals. She checks the time on her phone and notices a forgotten notification from the night before, reminding her to take her meds.

Shit.

Her mom had tried to remind her but then she had to go and get herself high as a damn kite and forget to do it. The double-hit of a missed dose and what she can only describe as a weed hangover is already resulting in what she imagines will be one hell of a long day.

Thank God it’s Sunday.

Prospero rubs against her ankle as she trudges downstairs, the smell of buttermilk and blueberries wafting up to her from the kitchen. Ashley heads into the kitchen and flops down into a chair, staring at her plate full of blueberry pancakes but not making any move to eat them. Her mother sits down across from her and frowns.

“You okay, Ash?” she asks. “You look kind of out of it.”

“I’m okay,” Ashley lies. “Didn’t sleep very well.” He mom would be worried if she knew Ashley forgot to take her meds. And her mom would absolutely _murder_ her if she knew _why_ Ashley forgot. Her mother passes her the half-empty syrup bottle.

“Aw, that’s too bad. Did the party stress you out?”

“No, it was fine,” Ashley says. “Pretty boring, actually.”

Her mom chuckles.

“You really are my daughter,” she says. “I always ended up reading the host’s books at parties. People would find me in the living room, buried in some book while everybody danced.” She laughs again. “Sorry you inherited that from me.”

Ashley pours a viscous stream of amber-colored syrup onto her pancakes and shrugs.

“Books are better than dancing anyway. I’m too white to dance well.”

Her mother snorts with laughter.

\-----------

After breakfast she’s finishing up a math assignment when she feels fingers, hard and angry, on the back of her neck. She yelps and turns, batting at the thin air behind her. She pauses, takes in a deep breath. Nothing’s there, she’s alone, she’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay.

Prospero pads into her room and hops onto her bed with a little chirp. Ashley hugs him close to her, cuddling a little too tightly before he wriggles out of her grip and walks away.

\------------

Later that day she’s playing Pokémon on her DS when her phone buzzes. She sits up and stretches, then glances with surprise at the text from the unknown number.

 

**Hey Mike**

**that slut from the swim team might think she has everything you want**

**but I’ve got something she’ll never have**

**Wanna come see what it is??? (;**

Ashley blinks. She’s not sure who Mike is, but she vaguely remembers Emily griping about somebody on the swim team last night and suddenly she puts two and two together and feels her face get hot again. She hesitates, wondering what she should say, if anything. A few minutes later her phone buzzes again.

 

**Well??**

**Michael I know you read that I have read receipts on**

Ashley sighs. No way around this one.

 

**I’m sorry, I’m afraid you have the wrong number. I don’t know who Mike is.**

There’s a pause. Then Emily replies:

 

**Never mind. Sorry.**

 

Ashley doesn’t know what to say to that so she doesn’t say anything, just buries her head in her game until dinner.

\------------

After dinner she washes down her medicine with a glass of water and flops into bed, quietly dreading school tomorrow. She imagines between Josh and Emily a fair amount of kids already know about her little experience at the party. Her attempt to start over and become someone else has already flopped and it’s been a month.

From loser virgin wallflower to loser virgin pothead. What a metamorphosis.

She’s no stranger to ridicule at least, so she’ll be used to the storm when it comes. She just wishes she could’ve been someone better here. Someone with friends and plans and things to look forward to other than leaving high school and going somewhere far, far away for college.

She hears something in the other room, a high, terrible scream and before she even knows what she’s doing she’s running into her mother’s room, finding her sitting up in bed, eyes wide and wild, breath short, a vase of flowers shattered on the floor.

“Mom?”

“No,” Ashley’s mother whimpers, “No, no, no, no! Don’t…!”

Ashley approaches carefully, mindful of the glass shards on the floor. She grips her mother’s shoulders and looks into her teary eyes, the same deep green as her own.

“Mom, it’s me. It’s Ashley.”

“Ash?” her mother says, staring at her. “Ash, get out of here! If he sees you, he’ll—”

“Mom. It’s okay,” Ashley says, giving her mom’s shoulders a gentle but firm shake. “Dad’s not here. You’re safe. We both are.”

Her mother looks at her a long time. Her eyes light up a bit after a minute and she takes in a shaky breath.

“Ashley, oh baby, I’m so sorry, the glass—”

“It’s okay, I’ll clean it up,” Ashley tells her, a tight smile on her face. “You rest. It’s okay.”

She bends down, carefully scooping up the bigger pieces of glass into her hand and taking them downstairs, into the kitchen bin. Then she grabs a broom and dustpan for the rest. It reminds her of the times her dad would smash plates and vases and stare at her expectantly until she cleaned them up. Later he’d apologize and take her out for ice cream and a week later he’d smash something again. Or yell, or hit her. And apologize again. And yell again. And break again. And apologize again—

Her mother is still awake when she finishes sweeping up the glass.

“Ashley, honey, I’m so sorry, I—”

Ashley interrupts her with a kiss on the forehead.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I love you so much. Okay?”

It feels strange to be the mother to her mother, but after everything her mom has done to protect her, to defend her from the monster who fathered her, she deserves whatever comfort Ashley can give. Ashley pats her hand.

“I love you. Goodnight, mom.”

\------------

By some miracle, no one brings up the pot thing Monday morning. In fact, no one seems to acknowledge her at all, which is much more comfortable. Chris texted her to tell her he’s home sick with swine flu because he apparently never got the vaccine for some reason. His absence makes her day lonely but at least he’s not running to her to copy off her English assignment right before class.

Speaking of, they have their Fall Project coming up, due right before Homecoming because Mr. Wagner finds school dance hype annoying and likes to take it out on his students. They’ll be getting their reading assignment today, one of a wide variety of crusty old novels about the struggles of rich white people. Ashley sighs, tells herself that’s high school, jumping through a bunch of hoops made up by some panel of old guys somewhere, and then going to college where she’ll finally get to learn what she wants. She just has to get there first.

She pulls her hair into a loose ponytail, and heads into third period English.

She has about two minutes before class starts. She’s pulling her class binder out of her backpack when she notices a familiar head of black hair. Emily has her back to her. She’s talking to Mr. Wagner about schedule changes, and Mr. Wagner points out an empty desk near the back of the class. Emily passes by Ashley’s desk, not looking at her. Ashley bites her lip. Between the party and the texting fiasco it would probably be best for both of them if they never interacted in any significant way ever again.

“Alright,” Mr. Wagner says near the end of class. “Now for the moment you’ve all been dreading.”

He switches on his projector and goes through a Power Point explaining the Fall Project. Each of them will choose a partner and be randomly assigned a book to read and analyze. They’ll each make a paper of annotations and write an essay on a character of their choosing. On the day before Homecoming they’ll give a presentation on the book, its themes, and why it’s relevant today. Pretty straightforward, but a lot of work.

The kids partner up, old friends with old friends, and, as usual, Ashley is the odd one out. Mr. Wagner looks at her.

“No partner?”

She shakes her head.

He looks at the once-empty desk near the back of the class.

“Miss Davis. Got a partner?”

“No, sir,” Emily says.

Mr. Wagner nods at her.

“Well, there you go. Your book is _Catcher in the Rye._ Go write your names on the sheet and pick a presentation time.”

Ashley sighs and walks up with Emily to put down their names. Once they’re done, Emily fixes her with a glare.

“This presentation is worth ten percent of our grade,” she hisses. “I’ve got enough going on already right now. So you had better pull your weight, because if you make me do all the work I swear to god I will cut out your tongue and feed it to my cat.”

So apparently in addition to being ridiculously blunt and lacking in social grace, Emily is also terrifying. Great. This project is going to be a blast.

Homecoming’s late this year, in mid-October rather than late September.

It’s going to be a long month and a half.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Crawls out of a hole* I'm baaaaaaaaack  
> Happy Until Dawn-iversary! I decided for the anniversary and for my little comeback I would devote some words to my two favorite characters. The second part of this little two-shot should be out in a week.  
> As for my other projects, I hope to get them up and running again in the next few weeks. For those of you who have stuck with me, I can't thank you enough.  
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed it!  
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Emily

"Wow. Okay," Emily says. "If I'm ever as whiny and pretentious as this fucking kid, please shoot me."

They're on Ashley's bed, notebooks and paper spread haphazardly out on the duvet as they flip through the book, comparing notes and flipping through their annotated pages trying to find something to make their presentation about. Emily suggested they make their presentation about how completely unbearable J.D. Salinger must have been as a person, but Ashley told her that probably wouldn't jive too well with Mr. Wagner.

Ashley's read this book once before, and she's not a fan. It's not that she doesn't empathize with the main character, this troubled, cynical kid wandering the streets of New York looking for meaning, but you can only call so many people phonies before you deserve to get decked right in your holier-than-thou face.

Emily's running commentary is pretty much the only thing that's keeping Ashley going at this point.

"And what's with the constant swearing, anyway?" Emily asks. "Even  _I_ don't swear this much. What, did Salinger not think the constant griping was edgy enough on its own?" She breathes out a sigh, heavy and annoyed and Ashley would suggest they take a break but they're not really friends, so sitting around her room and not talking would just be awkward.

"I mean, Holden did go through a lot," Ashley argues, if only for the sake of playing devil's advocate. They need to find  _something_ to write about, after all, and they're not gonna do that by complaining.

Emily snorts.

"Whatever. I guess the whiny little bitch needs someone on his team."

"Maybe we could explore how the things that have happened to him might have shaped him?" Ashley suggests. "And how, like, when people are suffering but don't manifest it in a nice, or, uh, like, socially acceptable way, we stop feeling sorry for them?"

There's a tiny change in Emily's expression that Ashley can't read. She shrugs.

"Sure, whatever."

She snatches Ashley's copy of the book out of her hands without asking, looking over the sticky note annotations. She makes a face.

"Your handwriting is chickenshit."

\------------

That night she's staring at her face in the bathroom mirror, how the dark circles under her eyes have come back. It's been hard to sleep lately; she got her dosage changed at the doctor's recently and it's making her dreams vivid and nightmarish. Her doctor told her that would eventually subside as her body got used to the new dosage, but still she wanted to stop some nights.

She didn't need to be dreaming about him.

She remembers when she saw her mother taking pills when she was six, how her mother had told her that pills were like magic candy; you eat them and they can change your body, but that if you take the wrong kind or too much, you can get sick. Ash had always liked the idea of there being magic in the world, something beautiful and impossible that would one day whisk her away from her lonely school days and broken family.

Her dad had beaten that fantasy out of her pretty quickly.

She sighs, takes a pill out of the bottle, and swallows it with a cup of water.

\------------

They meet once or sometimes twice a week to figure out where they're going to the project, while they complete the essays independently. Emily rather shamelessly uses SparkNotes most of the time, having long since lost patience with the book itself.

"It's not that I'm too dumb to get the book," Emily says once night, unprompted. She looks away from her laptop, where, sure enough, the SparkNotes list of themes and symbols for the book is quite visible. "It's just that I've had enough of Mr. Caulfield's self-righteous bitching to last me the rest of my life." She closes her laptop, and looks out of Ashley's window. She looks tired. Ashley looks down at their little work-in-progress PowerPoint and sighs.

"Maybe we should take a breather. Get some food in us. I haven't eaten since lunch."

According to her phone it's seven. Her mom's working late, doing parent-teacher conferences, so Ashley's on her own for dinner. She hops off her bed and stretches until her neck and hip bones make a series of satisfying  _pops_. A moment later, Emily gets up too.

"Can you cook?" she asks.

"I mean, kind of? I'm a mean microwaver," Ashley tells her with a nervous little smile.

Emily's not amused.

"Okay, yeah, I don't trust you. Let's order pizza. I'll buy."

\------------

They order from a local place, thin wheat crust because Emily's on a diet. Emily wanted vegetables and Ashley wanted anchovies; they argued, hit a stalemate, and decided to just get cheese. The delivery guy is a scrawny college kid with hair as red as his acne. Emily gives him a pitiful tip and slams the door on him once they have the pizza inside.

"You owe me for this," Emily tells her as she lays a slice down on her plate.

"You offered to get it!" Ashley protests. "I didn't even say if I wanted it."

"Let's see," Emily says to herself, ignoring Ashley as she does the math in her head. "The pizza was fifteen bucks, which is overpriced considering the quality, but whatever. If we split it, then we each pay seven-fifty. But I'm adding on a fifteen percent tax on the original pizza price to your share because you like anchovies, which is weird. So you owe me $9.75." She looks at Ashley and smiles pleasantly. "If you could get that to me by next week sometime, that'd be fantastic."

"You're evil," Ashley tells her before she can stop herself.

Emily smirks.

"At least I'm not a _phony_ about it, right?"

"Ugh, stop," Ashley groans. "I don't wanna hear that stupid word again for the rest of my life."

"Sounds like the exact thing a _phony_ would say."

Ashley rolls her eyes.

"Why don't you shut up before I stuff your mouth with pizza to make you."

"Gay," Emily replies. Ashley blushes furiously.

\------------

Emily's friends with Chris, as it turns out, along with a few other kids she normally eats lunch with. Ashley typically eats lunch in the stairwell but eventually Chris convinces her to join them. Being friends could eventually mean being friends with Chris's friends, and that would be a major upgrade considering her previous record is one friend and a kind-of-friendly-not-friend-slash-project-partner. Timidly she walks over to their table, book bag over her shoulder and a paper lunch sack in her hand. Chris looks up and smiles at her approach.

"Ash! Over here!"

Ashley sits across from him, next to a pretty girl with fair hair in a loose ponytail. She smiles and nods at Ashley when their eyes meet.

"Hi," she says, "I'm Sam."

"Um, Ashley."

"Hey, I'm Mike," says a tall, vaguely assholish-looking guy sitting next to Emily. He's got an arm around her shoulders and Ashley realizes he's the guy Em was drunkenly trying to message the other day.

A huge, shy-looking boy nods at her. "I'm Matt." He indicates the twin girls sitting next to him. "This is Hannah and Beth."

They smile at her.

"You've met Josh," Beth says. "Who, incidentally, is  _conveniently_ sick with a cold on the day of a test he forgot to study for. Go figure."

"And that leaves—" Chris starts.

"Oh my fucking god," says a bright-eyed bottle blonde sitting to Emily's left. "You. Are. So. Adorable.  _Please_ let me fix your wardrobe!"

"...Jessica," Chris finishes with a chuckle.

"Call me Jess!" Jessica tells her, flashing her perfect white teeth. "You've met Emily, yeah?"

Emily looks up from her laptop (they aren't even allowed to have laptops on campus) and nods.

Jess leans in conspiratorially, smirking at Ashley.

"Em might seem like an ice queen, but she's a total softie on the inside. In fact, she still sleeps with a little plush kitty cat named—"

"Shut up!" Emily snaps, going scarlet and giving Jess a punch in the shoulder. Jess just laughs.

\------------

Ashley's waiting for Emily in the library after school. Their presentation is due in a week, and they need to start putting their slideshow together. Josh comes into the library, Jess at his heels. They're talking, more loudly than they really should be in a library. Josh looks up and smiles at her.

"Hey Ash!" Josh calls.

"Josh, lower your voice a little."

"Oh right. We're in a library," Josh says in an exaggerated loud whisper. "Hey Jess, be quiet."

"Okay," Jess loud-whispers back.

Ashley brings her hand to her face.

"What's this about?"

Jess takes hold of a bit of Ashley's hair and looks at it.

"I'm figuring out your colors. Josh and I are gonna go hang out and plan your new look."

"Oh. Good."

"You and Em having fun with that project thing?"

"A blast," Ashley says. Then, "Wait. Don't you have the same assignment?"

Josh shrugs.

"Yeah. Chris and me are gonna do it Sunday night."

"The whole thing? The night before it's due?"

Josh shrugs again.

"Uh, yeah."

"But that's a month-and-a-half's worth of work!"

"It's fine, it's fine," Josh says with a wave of his hand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Jess and me are gonna—"

Jessica's phone buzzes in her pocket. She takes it out and answers.

"Hello? Wha—Oh shit, okay, Em? Em, hold on, just stay there, I'll get over to you, okay? Do you have your—Oh, oh, okay. That's okay. I'm gonna get the nurse—Em, you need to go to the nurse, please don't fight me on this. I'll be right there, okay? Don't move."

She hangs up and grabs her bags.

"Guys, I gotta run."

"Wait!" Ashley says. "Is Emily okay?"

"She's gonna be fine," Jess says, running out of the room. Ashley stands up to follow her but Josh stops her with a look.

"Ashley, she'll be fine. This has happened before," he tells her. "Just, uh—let's go get milkshakes. Don't worry about it."

"Is she sick?"

"She'll be fine," Josh repeats, taking her arm. "Let's get out of here."

\------------

That night Emily shows up with tired eyes.

"Sorry I didn't meet you at the library," Emily says. "Something came up."

"What was it?" Ashley blurts before she can stop herself.

Emily glares at her.

"I was murdering your family, obviously," she huffs. "Let me in. We need to finish this stupid thing. I want enough time that's not spent analyzing some whiny-ass white boy so I can get ready for Homecoming."

She stomps in, nearly tripping over Prospero and cursing under her breath. She stalks upstairs to Ashley's room and slams her bag down on the bed while Ashley trails after her. Ash timidly sits down beside her while Emily takes out her books and paper, practically snarling as she works.

"Jesus, Em, what's with you?" Ashley blurts out. Emily fixes her with a glare.

"I just want to get this stupid shit done. I had a bad fucking day, alright? Leave me alone."

Silently they open up laptops and flip through their books, trying to find textual evidence to support their thesis. They're about four slides in when Ashley finds a passage about Holden at the movies and underlines a few lines. She turns to Emily, who's still glaring at her laptop screen, ignoring her as she types furiously, the  _click clack click clack_ filling the quiet room and setting Ashley's nerves on edge.

"Hey, Em?" Ash asks. "Do you think this passage shows that his trauma has made him unreceptive to displays of sincere love and affection in fiction?"

"Sure," Emily says without looking up.

"Em," Ashley says, "It would be really helpful if you would—"

"I'm  _working,_ Ashley. Fuck off."

"Em, this is our project!" Ash protests. "Ours! You can't just ignore everything I'm saying because you had a bad day. Will you please work with me here?"

Emily doesn't answer. Her face is hard, her eyes sharp and focused on her typing. Timidly, Ashley places a hand on her shoulder to try to get her attention.

"Em—"

As soon as a single finger is on her shoulder, Emily reacts, like Ashley had put sodium in water. She bats Ashley's hand away and wheels to face her, her eyes wild and furious.

"Don't _FUCKING_ touch me!"

Ashley isn't sure what triggered it; the yelling, the slap, the fury in her eyes, but before she can do anything else her instincts take over and she's curled into a little ball on the bed, hands over her head as her chest heaves with loud, painful sobs.

"I'm sorry," she manages through her sobs. "I'm s-sorry, I, I'm sorry...!"

"Ash...?"

"Please don't hit me!" Ashley begs, making herself even smaller on the bed. "P-please don't h-hit me..."

"Hey," Emily's voice says, and it's soft now, almost sweet. "Hey, Ashley? I'm really sorry. I'm not gonna hit you, okay? Can I get you some water?"

Ashley makes a weak little affirmative noise. Emily gets off the bed.

A few minutes later Ashley uncurls to find Emily standing in the doorway, a glass of water in her hand and a tired look in her eyes. She walks over, cup in hand, and offers it to Ashley, who holds it in a shaky, sweaty hand. She sniffs.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, Emily, I—"

"Ashley," Emily cuts her off, looking her square in the eye. "It's okay. You didn't know."

Ashley lowers her head and sniffs, taking a shaky sip of water. It feels soothing on her labored throat as she swallows it down.

"I don't like people touching me without my permission," Emily tells her, "because, um, because—" She pauses, her eyes fogging up. She swallows. "Never mind. It's not important. I'm sorry for lashing out at you." She stands and sighs. "I'll take care of the rest of the project, okay? Don't worry about it. You should get some rest."

Ashley's never seen Emily acting nice. It's a weird look on her. But she's in no mood to argue, so she just nods. Emily collects her stuff and heads for the door.

"Jess and I are going dress shopping this weekend," Emily says as she leaves. "You should come."

And with that, she's gone.

\------------

"Uh, d-do you like this one?"

Jess purses her lips in thought, looking Ashley up and down. She hums.

"Hm, no. Too 'librarian'. C'mon, Ash! You gotta find something at makes you feel sexy, not forty."

The dress shop they're in is some trendy, ridiculously expensive mall outlet, full of rich hot girls and unfairly fashionable clerks. Emily's at one of the nearby racks, examining each dress with the shrewd gaze of a critic, while Jess looks through the nearby rack for something for Ashley. Ash fidgets uncomfortably as she waits, watching a woman with hair in luxurious curls try on a pair of Stilettos.

"What about this?" Jess asks, holding up a simple but elegant black dress. The chest is cut pretty low, and Ashley blushes at the thought of wearing it in public.

"Uh—"

"Oh, come on, Ash!" Jess says, thrusting the dress into her arms. "Try it on! I wanna see how it looks on you."

Ashley sighs and takes the dress back into one of the changing rooms, squeezing into the tiny garment with a grunt. She's surprised when she looks in the mirror; standing there is a girl in a little black dress that settles nicely on her curves and makes the red of her hair look like fire. She's almost pretty like this, if it weren't for her frizzy hair and haggard face. Eventually she snaps out of her trance and wanders out of the changing room, where Em and Jess are waiting for her. Jessica brings a hand to her mouth.

"Oh my god, Ash. You look stunning."

Ashley blinks.

"I do?"

"Of course you do. How dare you question my judgement," Jess huffs.

"It looks good on you," Emily agrees. "Wanna get it?"

Ashley steals a look at the price tag and her heart sinks.

"Oh, um. This is way too expensive. I can't afford it."

Emily walks over to her and examines the tag herself, Ashley shivering when her fingertips accidentally brush against her leg.

"I can pay for this."

Ashley balks.

"You can? What are you, loaded?"

Jess giggles.

"Oh yeah, Em's rolling in cash! Which is why I take her on all my shopping sprees."

"Yeah, shocking that you conveniently seem to forget your wallet each time," Emily grumbles.

Jessica flashes another perfect smile. Emily rolls her eyes

\------------

Emily's at the counter, reaching into her purse for her credit card when something orange falls out of her bag with a clatter. It rolls across the floor, landing at Ashley's feet. She picks it up and looks at the label before she can stop herself. Ativan. A benzodiazepine, used to treat panic attacks. She looks away, feeling like the worst kind of busybody. Emily snatches the bottle out of her hand and stuffs it into her purse without a word.

 _You shouldn't feel bad about having a mental illness, Ashley,_ her mom had once said to her.  _Lots of people have them, even people who seem like they're perfect._

\------------

Ashley doesn't bring up the pills, but she's sure to conveniently leave her own pill bottle in plain sight the next time Emily comes over, to pick her up for Homecoming. Emily steals a glance at it but doesn't comment, just clicks her tongue impatiently while Ashley throws her things together and puts on the last of her makeup.

"You should let me or Jess do your hair next time," Emily comments as Ashley follows her into her car. "You could do so much with it and let you just let it hang like a dead thing on your scalp. It's next level disappointing."

They all meet up at Mike's place and head out together, cramming themselves into Matt and Josh's cars. Ashley notes the exhausted look on Chris's face and stifles a chuckle.

"Finish the project?" She asks.

"Yep," Chris says, sounding a little proud but mostly sleepy. "You're talking to the procrastinating pros, you know."

"If you get anything better than a B on that thing, I'm gonna be so mad," Ashley tells him. "Em and I worked so hard on that!"

"Oh yeah, it was a glorious journey," Emily snarks, but when she looks at Ashley there's a tiny bit of warmth there, and it occurs to Ashley that they have a sort of unspoken connection now, a thread of trauma and illness binding them together. It's hardly the ideal basis for a friendship, but the thought of having someone who honestly, truly understands her own fucked up headspace is...

Well, it's nice.

Josh's car pulls into the parking lot of their high school, and Ashley can hear the thrumming music coming from inside the gym. The others, all decked out in satin and lace, get out and start walking to the front entrance, Emily taking Mike's arm, the other girls trailing after Matt. Josh locks up his car, gives Ashley a little wink, and leaves her with Chris, who pauses and looks at her, motionless, while the others move on.

They stand there, under the starry sky, for a few moments. Then—

"We should, uh, we should get inside," Ashley says with a nervous laugh. Chris nods and rubs the back of his head. He looks pleasantly absurd in formal attire.

"So," he says as they walk across the parking lot together, "How was working with the Demon Queen of Los Angeles?"

"You know, this might sound crazy," Ashley replies, "but I think she might actually like me."

"Earned the respect of the Ice Queen? Impressive."

"She has a heart, you know," Ashley tells him.

"I know," Chris says, his voice softening a bit. "She just has a lot of shit she's dealt with. It's easier to close up and be hard to crack after that. Trauma fucks with you."

"Yeah," Ashley says. "I get that."

They're quiet after that, no sounds but the crunch of loose gravel under their shoes until they enter the school.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand here it is!  
> I hope you enjoyed that little character study. My poor girls. I'm too mean to them, honestly.  
> For those of you who are curious, I should be finish "Graves" in the next few weeks, "Lycaon" will be back from hiatus after I've finished "Graves", and I'll be starting something new sometime around there! I really wanna try something, but I'm not spilling any details at the moment...  
> Please leave a comment if you liked it! Thanks for reading!


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